


Temptation Heat (Beats Like a Drum)

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Round Three trope_bingo fills [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Community: trope_bingo, Gen, POV First Person, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sif returns from battle not as she once was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temptation Heat (Beats Like a Drum)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round three of trope_bingo and my “au: supernatural” square. Title comes from the song “Cry, Little Sister” by Gerald McMann, as featured in the Lost Boys soundtrack and film.

I stood alone at the balcony of Valaskjalf, and looked out over the impressive sweep of Asgardian gardens that was arrayed far below me; I could feel the wind ruffling through my hair, fragrant, warm, surprisingly soothing instead of irritating. I smiled, closed my eyes momentarily and allowed the breezes to wash over and warm my skin; oftentimes, I felt too cold these days, chilled from my bones outwards so that every movement seemed framed in a blue masquerade of ice and snow. 

I opened my eyes, lifted a hand and stared at it; once again, I expected to see my skin turned blue, faint striations of old scars that I’d never earned marked out like maps into my skin. Yet my skin still retained its Aesir pink hues, marked by scars that I had earned through many a battle and sparring session with Thor. I allowed the smile that blossomed within me to slide its way across my face and I wondered how I looked then, whether my smile reflected the hidden inner darkness that was known mostly only to myself. Thor might guess at some of it; after all, my so-called brother was far from stupid; arrogant, loud, far too impressed with himself and his exploits he might be, yet he could never be accused of ever being stupid. 

I sighed and turned, as I wondered quite when Thor would return from his battles against the dark elves; it would be nice to be entertained by Thor’s ever enthralling tales, to counteract the boredom of spending time alone in the halls of Asgard. I had been forbidden to leave Valaskjalf for some misdemeanour over Odin’s food at breakfast time; I had conjured up a multitude of slithering worms instead of the platter of cold meats that Odin had expected. As such, the mighty Allfather had seen fit to keep an eye on me, therefore preventing me from taking part in that day’s battles. I still dreamed of the day when I could come and go as I pleased; being akin to a Midgardian teenager in Aesir terms was nothing short of being a nuisance.

Thor and company did not return for another hour or two, and when they arrived it was with quite a flurry. Sif dangled almost lifelessly between Thor and Fandral, eyes drooping partially closed, mouth slack; blood pooled across her usually unmarked throat, threatening to dip down below the stiff confines of her armour. 

“The elves proved to be quite a handful, I see,” I said, as I walked slowly from the shadows, partially blocking their way as they passed.

“Out of the way, fool,” Fandral hissed as he moved to shove me aside, almost dropping Sif in the process. 

I merely cocked my head at him and felt the familiar play of an ice cold smirk flicker across my lips, yet still, I did not move. I would not for Fandral; only Thor had the authority and the temerity to order me about and then, only grudgingly did I obey. Sif groaned, proving that she still lived at least; I cast a disdainful glance at her, keeping my chilly facade in place but for one moment. 

“Move, Loki,” Thor said, thunder evident in his too loud voice and in his scowl. “Now, so that we can get Sif to the Healing Rooms. Or do you really intend for Sif to die?” 

I inclined my head, and bent my upper body in a mock bow of obeisance towards Thor, even as I stepped minutely out of the way; although I still partially blocked the path, my movements were more symbolic than actual. Fandral growled at me and stepped around me, dragging Sif bodily along with him. Thor paced beside him, Sif still slung between them, but he did little more than give me a curt nod. With that one nod, Thor told me silently that he would tell me all later on. 

Of all of them, I knew Thor would be the most forthcoming with his information, yet I had never seen one such as Sif so badly hurt. Ordinarily I would have expected it of Fandral perhaps, and even he bore such ills with laughter in his mouth and a smile in his eyes, defiant to the every last. I wondered then if he still would joke when Ragnarok was coming down upon us all; I wagered only then would Fandral’s laughter die. 

I sighed, and turned away, knowing that Thor would find me in due time. He always did; it was almost as though there was an unshakable bond between us, that could never be broken despite everything. 

~~~

Thor was true to his very nature; he soon found me some time later. I heard him before I saw him, yelling loudly for mead and for food. His voice was tired, weary, despite its usual louder than most pitch. I waited, still staring as night descended upon all of Asgard, my face turned up to observe the first smattering of stars tracing their way across the skies. It was almost beautiful, yet still my mind’s eye kept replaying the blood that streaked Sif’s neck and throat, bright and dusky red against creamy skin that was too out of place upon the warrior‘s body. 

Thor’s presence behind me was like buzzing electricity, which battered against every sense that I had and I half turned an expressionless face upon that of my brother. I could smell ozone in the air as though the promise of anguished thunder still clung to Thor’s body; one prod in the wrong direction and Thor would explode, I knew. I wondered just how far I dared push him. 

Thor’s face when he leant beside me to stare out across the rolling buildings of Asgard was angry to say the least; his mouth was pulled down at the corners, brows furrowed enough so that I could see angry lines between them even in the dim light. 

“You are vexed, brother,” I said, quietly, deciding to start small for now.

Thor merely grunted and said nothing more.

“How is the Lady Sif?” I enquired. 

“Like you care,” Thor said, with a disgusted snort in my direction.

“Now, now, brother,” I said, with laughter in my voice at the sudden flash of anger that wasn’t entirely unexpected. “What has brought on this sudden low estimation of me?” 

“You have always cared little for my friends, Loki. Don’t pretend that you don’t wish harm upon them,” Thor replied. 

“Maybe so, but what would be the point if I were not there to see their downfall?” I asked, quite succinctly I thought. “I am merely enquiring after the Lady’s health. She looked in quite a state.” 

Thor grunted again, and didn’t answer for a long time. I waited; in the grand scheme of things, when each of us could last five thousand years or more, a few moments of waiting mattered little. 

“There were creatures out there, Loki,” Thor said, and suddenly his voice was more broken than ever I had heard it. 

I was quite surprised at that; I had never heard Thor sound so broken over anyone other than Jane before, or me. Then I thought that Thor probably saw Sif as a fellow warrior, an equal, and the fact that he’d almost lost one that he usually fought with, depended upon in combat even, was quite heartening. Pathetic, really. 

“I would have thought that quite obvious, Thor,” I said, finally. “After all, you were supposed to be fighting some kind of creature, were you not?” 

“Not these kinds of creatures,” Thor replied.

He must truly have been worried if he didn’t rise to the bait, blinded by the thoughts that roiled still within that pretty little head of his. I sighed and leant beside him again; I could feel the electricity buzzing along my side, there and constant. Quite thrilling really when you consider it, standing next to the God of thunder who could bring destruction down upon one’s head with barely a thought. I wondered then what it must feel like to wield such power and just be so accepting of it. I had power of a different kind, yet unlike Thor, I was forever trying to further it, to learn and to grasp even more than I already had. Thor seemed far too complacent with his lot at the best of times. 

“They lived in the darkness,” Thor continued, as though he hadn’t noticed my quietness. “They came from the shadows and they had teeth.”

“Most things usually do,” I said, as I quietly wondered just where this was going. 

“Not like this. They looked like us, Loki, but their teeth - “ and I felt rather than saw Thor shudder. “Their teeth were pointed, like fangs, and they ripped at Sif like she was nothing to them.” 

I didn’t like to point out that she probably was nothing to whatever they’d met out there. 

“They tried to drink her blood,” Thor said, and he brought his fists down hard against the balustrade in front of us. “She fought them but they were almost too much for her. It took everything I had to fight them off and it still almost wasn’t enough.” 

“You feel guilt,” I said, in understanding.

It wasn’t merely because Sif had gotten herself injured, it was because Thor was almost too late. Ever the hero, was Thor. 

“I should have stopped them from even taking a bite of her,” Thor growled and thunder growled along with him. 

“Yet here she is, still alive and because of you,” I purred. “I should count myself lucky that you didn’t carry her home in full state. You did your duty to your lady friend, Thor. I should not worry yourself unduly.” 

Thor did not respond; the thunder did that for him. It bellowed above us and I could see the guilt still etched in Thor’s expression as he turned his face towards the skies above us, stars all but blotted out by the weight of the thunderclouds that spanned the sky from horizon to horizon. 

“You know not of what you speak, Loki,” Thor finally said, as he straightened and turned away. “You have never had to face the death of a loved one.” 

“I do not let anyone get so close so as I could mourn their passing,” I said, with a cold snort. 

“You will spend the rest of your days alone, brother. I envy you a lot of things, but never that,” Thor said, and he strode away so fast that I did not have the time to respond.

I watched him go, and I would be lying if I said that Thor’s words meant little to me. I would be damned to my daughter’s domain, however, if I ever let it show. 

~~~

Sif was asleep by the time I visited her in the Healing rooms. I wasn’t sure quite what brought me to her bedside. It wasn’t sympathy; perhaps it was morbid curiosity, to see what manner of wounds these strange blood-sucking creatures had wrought upon soft and feminine flesh. I wondered then why they had chosen Sif, and not Fandral or Hogunn, or even Thor. Volstagg was always too big, too imposing to even start a fight with at the best of times; I wondered if these fanged opponents had grossly underestimated Sif. 

It looked as though Sif had put up an incredible fight if the bruises on her knuckles and welts upon her hands and arms were anything to go by. In spite of the best healing that Asgard could offer to those in need, even things like bruises needed a few hours to fade and cuts to close up. I lightly ran my hands over exposed flesh, wondering silently at the twin puncture wounds in Sif’s throat. Amazing really how two small wounds could have produced such much blood. 

“She will heal, in time,” said a voice near to me.

I did not falter or flinch; instead, I let my hand drop and I turned. I felt that familiar cold mask of disdain drop over my face, so familiar as to be almost my neutral expression by now. 

“Wonderful, I’m sure.” I said, as I stalked past the healer that had spoken.

I realized only then that I knew not her name, nor did I even care at that point. 

“Why did you come, Loki? You care little for Sif,” the healer observed, thereofre proving that she knew me better than I knew her. “We all know that.” 

“I came out of curiosity, not through love nor loyalty,” I said and the truth in my confession tore at the healer.

I could see the hurt in her eyes even as she tried to turn away to shield the truth from me. My eyes were too quick and too used to seeing the effects of the pain I’d inflicted upon others to not notice it; I sighed and wondered when the seemingly endless cycle of suffering would finally stop.

“How long before she is healed?” I asked, wondering why I was even asking.

“A few hours for the minor cuts. Longer for the wounds in her neck,” she replied, yet still she refused to look at me. 

“Perhaps you would do well to rest. I will watch over Sif for the rest of the night,” I said, as I turned back to Sif again.

Curiosity drove me onwards again; I wanted to get the story from Sif when she inevitably woke up. I wanted to know what it felt like to have those fangs embedded in tender flesh, whether Sif knew fear or whether she was as genuinely brave as she appeared. 

“Another healer will take my place soon. you do not need to stay,” the healer said, curtly.

I smirked; that meant that she didn’t want me here.

“I hope then that the other healer will not object as much as you do to my continued presence, in that case,” I said, an amused lilt to my voice when she shot me a sharp look. “I am merely curious about the Lady Sif’s welfare.” 

“I would not have expected it of you,” she replied. “Did Thor send you?”

“If you like,” I replied, with a diffident shrug.

While it could hardly be considered the biggest lie I had ever told, I was still merely giving a suggestion of one; let the healer replace suggestion with actuality if she so wished. It would not be the first time that lies fell easily from my mouth or were merely implied, or attributed to me by others out of habit.

The healer nodded curtly; I drew away to a safe distance until she was replaced by the other healer that she‘d earlier mentioned. I waited for a short time before I cast a spell to send the healer to sleep; I moved quickly after that. I knew I had little time before she woke again; the spell, swiftly learned, was only good for a half an hour. I hoped that it would be enough time for me to do what I needed. I settled beside Sif and watched her for a few moments; she showed no sign of waking.

I watched her for a while, at the way that the Lady slept so deceptively peacefully. I had never in all the time that I had known her seen her looking quite so relaxed; while she was undoubtedly pretty whilst she was awake, she was even more so while sleeping, without her guard up making her strong and fierce. I wondered what she would have been like if she was more like Frigga; whilst Frigga admittedly could defend herself when needed to, and fiercely, she still had that motherly quality about her, tenderness softening out every action, wisdom strengthening every decision and movement that she made. Sif, on the other hand, had had to be strong for the path that she’d chosen for herself; I suppose that it had worked well for her, in that she had become the first woman warrior that Asgard now sported. I wondered then just how many young Asgardians would follow in the Lady Sif’s footsteps and would grow strength from her actions. 

I closed my eyes, tired of the what-if’s and the maybes that were suddenly besieging my mind; I could not think clearly when my thoughts wandered into non-logical patterns. I sighed and felt the first stirrings of sleep batter against the backs of my eyes. The hour was growing late and the light dimmed as night-time closed in on Asgard; I could feel my natural rhythms slowing and the magic beginning to ebb within me. My head drooped forward before I knew it, chin connecting with my chest and then I knew no more for I knew not how long .

I was awakened by the strength of a warrior’s hand gripping my throat, head bent back into unnatural lines and angles and the press of a feminine mouth at my throat. I felt the first snatch and graze of teeth against soft skin and I threw the Lady Sif off with a cry, hands connecting with her abdomen and heaving mightily. She struggled back to her feet, shaking her head groggily; I wondered then if I’d surprised her by fighting back so much that she’d hit her head upon the floor. 

I tensed as she staggered towards me, hands raised to ward her off by magic if need be; she still seemed a little disorientated and I couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks had hollowed out a little in the time since I’d been asleep. Admittedly, Sif was ordinarily whip thin and strong to boot, yet now she looked famished. 

She hissed at me, an animalistic sound that didn’t look right upon her; I could see the flash of fangs in her face as she crept towards me.

“Do not do this, Sif,” I said, a warning clear in my voice even to my own ears. 

“I’m hungry,” she said, and even her voice sounded different, more animalistic and feral.

“I realize that, but I don’t think you want the blood from one such as I,” I said, once again reliving the memories of blue skin and chilled blood, coupled with bright red eyes in a scarred face. 

I thought that she needed the blood of a warm thing, a living thing, not a monster such as myself. She didn’t seem to hear me, or if she did,. then she simply did not care. A sound came from behind me, a small sigh and a weary yawn as the healer finally came awake. My spell was wearing off and Sif took her chance while I was distracted. She leapt, and fastened her teeth in the healer’s neck before I could stop her; despite everything I felt towards the Aesir most of the time, I still tried to pull Sif back, yet even I, with what should have been superior strength, could not pull her off. 

I yelled for the guards, and remembered as I did so echoes of another time when I’d last called for the guards when Odin had fallen into one of his sleeps. Like that seemingly long-ago time, the guards came running, and managed to pull Sif from the healer between them, yet it was too late; she had been all but drained dry of all blood. Sif, I noticed, as she was carried away to the prisons of Asgard, looked sated now, her cheeks fuller and more healthy than they had been but a few moments before. She was smiling and that smile seemed aimed at me; her eyes were filled with dangerously defiant contentment, as though even one of the Princes of Asgard could not stop her from getting what she wanted.

I met her gaze head on, not wishing to allow her to gainsay me into flinching; I did not move for a very long time after the last echoes of her passage to the prisons had faded from the healing rooms. 

~~~

Thor was with Sif when finally I made my way down to the prisons the following day; I kept to the shadows and listened unashamedly to their conversation. 

“Do you not understand me, Thor? I need blood to survive. I crave it, I hunger for it and I must have it. Give me some of yours,” Sif hissed, fangs shining in the vaguely glowing light of the prison’s shimmering golden wall. 

“I will not, as you know I cannot,” Thor said, defiant to the last, shoulders straight and set. 

“I tried to take some from your brother, yet he threw me off. I would have liked to sample some blood of his,” Sif said, and she looked truly contrite over the fact that she'd missed out on a grand treat.

I curled my lip in disdain; Sif had turned monstrous in the time that I’d been away and I liked her less for it. 

“Then I am glad that you did not,” Thor said, as he partially turned away. “The guards shall bring you what you need. We have blood from animals to satisfy you. “

“I am not afraid,” Sif said, seemingly apropos to nothing.

“I never once doubted that you were, sister,” Thor said, softly. “But you shall not die by my hand, nor any others. I forbid it. I also forbid you to kill, hence why you must feed from animals. I cannot allow that, or anything else.” 

“So says you, oh golden prince of Asgard,” Sif spat.

“You are a monster and cannot be reasoned with; I see that now,” Thor said, and he sounded genuinely disappointed. 

“How long must I remain in here?” Sif hissed at him.

“As long as this strange blood lust beats in your veins, then you shall remain. Once temptation no longer heats its way through you, then shall you be released and not a second before,” Thor said, as he turned away. 

Sif screamed at him to come back, to release her immediately, yet Thor continued to walk away, jaw set as though he heard her not. I smiled at his tenacity; Thor might be a lot of things yet he was strong when he needed to be, and he often had to be. I slipped away before he could discover that I had been listening.

Sif remained in the prisons of Asgard for several months, by which time some of the blood lust had left her. She no longer craved the blood of the Aesir, surviving almost entirely upon the blood of animals. Still, sometimes, I caught her staring at me with an odd light in her eye, as though still she hungered for the blood that flowed inevitably through my veins. Every time I caught her stare, I glared back until she was forced to drop her gaze subserviently.

“Do not let her get to you,” Thor advised when he caught the silent, defiant exchange one time.

“I was not planning on it, brother,” I said, softly, with a smile. “She cannot have what she craves; even Odin will see to that.”

“Think of how she will fight on the battlefield,” Fandral crowed, having obviously heard some of what we’d been discussing. “Have you seen her on the practice ground? Purely beastly to a fault. If I thought she was a warrior before, then she is a true berserker now. She almost had my arm off this morning.” 

“Then battle cannot come soon enough,. Perhaps that will calm her for a little while. The Norns know that she needs it,” Thor said, and he looked grim, almost angry. 

“She will calm, you’ll see,” and I sounded almost confident. 

Conversation shifted then when Volstagg arrived, demanding food; Hogunn had yet to pass judgement either way upon the matter of Sif. I wondered if he’d even given the matter thought yet it was hard to see past the inscrutable facade of one such as Hogun. I doubted he would tell one such as I even if I asked. 

Time rolled inexorably on and Sif proved to be the berserker upon the battlefield that Fandral had predicted. While unable to intrude out in full daylight, she was fearsome in darkened realms that were forever lit by the moon; the battle of war seemed to calm her still further and she no longer stared at me afterwards as though she wanted to sink her fangs into me. Thor even turned a blind eye when she feasted upon the blood of our enemies after battle was done; as long as her fangs strayed nowhere near any of the Aesir or Vanir, then I suppose Thor could afford to do that much. 

I decided that if Thor could do such a thing then so could I, yet despite this, I never once let my guard down when Sif was around. Only time would tell, however, whether the temporary diversion of her attentions elsewhere would prove to be the downfall of us all.


End file.
